IBTHM Chapter 1

The foundation of fandom is maintaining your secret identity. This is especially true if you're a noble with a certain social standing—someone who must carefully curate their public image.

And right now, I was facing a crisis of forced identity exposure.

The biggest crisis in my 30-year life, lived for fandom, by fandom, of fandom.

"Lady Esclife."

Duke Hades Ruvermonte.

Even in this Crescenta Empire overflowing with talented individuals, the man who had perfected the art of perfection itself quietly called my name.

My heart trembled. Of course, Duke Ruvermonte was an extremely handsome and attractive man, but the reason my heart was currently going thump-thump wasn't because I was swooning over him.

"I assume you know why I've called you to my study like this."

Duke Ruvermonte crossed his legs elegantly and lifted the teacup before him.

It was a rather arrogant posture, but even that oozed with bad-boy charm.

Well, naturally. Whose father is he, after all?

"I... I'm not sure."

I played dumb for now.

Beyond the tilting teacup, the duke's red eyes pierced through me sharply. From the way his eyebrow rose, he clearly didn't appreciate my transparent lie.

Thunk.

The sound of the teacup being set down split the silence in the room.

Whoooooosh—

Right on cue, the sharp wind battering the window outside howled, ringing in my ears.

As I glanced at the snow-covered northern landscape beyond the window, I felt like crying.

Even the weather in the duke's territory resembles its master, thick with cold air.

"You attended the Harvest Festival held in the central Merein county a year ago. I believe that's where it all started."

"...Y-yes?!"

At the unexpected sharpness, I gasped and covered my mouth.

"And I remember you attending this year's Debutante Ball held in the capital. Even though you're well past debutante age. Just there to enjoy the festivities during the festival season? That excuse doesn't quite work when I know the Esclife barony's circumstances are a bit... tearful. A single trip to the capital would practically uproot your family's foundation."

He was right, and it stung. What a brutal fact-bombing session this was.

"Excuse me... Your Grace."

But there was still room for excuses. Just because our destinations overlapped twice didn't mean he could jump to the conclusion that I'd been stalking the ducal family for fandom purposes, right?

I tried to steady my spinning vision and prepare my defense.

Sweat trickled like rain over my teacup, gathering on my chin before dropping. Plop.

I could feel the duke smirking. Then, he suddenly thrust his hand into the inner pocket of his jacket.

At that movement, I flinched. I felt exactly like a mountain rabbit being chased by a wildcat in the snowy peaks.

Knowing the duke's personality, what would emerge from that jacket pocket right now would be...

A dagger? Throwing stars? A noose? Poison?

Anyway, one of those things would definitely pop out.

And after instantly cornering me into a dead end, he'd ask terrifyingly, 'Why did you approach my son?'

I was certain. The duke was a son-obsessed fool, after all.

"...Hup."

However, what was tossed swish in front of me as I instinctively clutched my throat in defense was an unexpectedly docile object.

A simple handkerchief with gold embroidery on black fabric.

"Were you nervous? You're sweating quite a bit."

"Ah ha... Well! I wasn't so much nervous as I naturally run quite hot."

"Ah, in this freezing north? Perhaps the heating was excessive."

"That's right! The fire! That fireplace! That thing, oh my, it's burning quite... vigorously..."

Pointing at the innocent blazing fireplace, I dabbed away the streaming sweat with the duke's handkerchief, pressing it against my skin. Dab, dab.

"Let me continue. When you were staying in the capital at that time, I received quite a valuable gift from an anonymous person. More precisely, it was sent addressed to my son, Abel Ruvermonte... The Sacred Blade of Santhkrya."

"Oh my, such a treasure?"

"Yes. I suppose they thought remaining anonymous would keep them hidden. Just how much did they underestimate the ducal family's intelligence network..."

"..."

"The sender was Viscount Douglas Hurane. When I looked into it, he's been sponsoring your family for three years now. Even just this much is sufficient proof that you've been trailing our ducal family, but."

The duke paused for a beat, then met eyes with trembling me and smiled pleasantly.

It was quite a harmless smile, unlike his anger gauge which had probably maxed out to his hairline by now.

"If you claim there's still room for excuses, go ahead and try. The succession ceremony at the Marquis Kirie's territory, the central nobility ball, the public knighting ceremony in the capital..."

"Ah! Yes, yes. Your Grace. Th-that's enough."

Wow, hearing it like this is truly shocking. Did I really think I was fangirling discreetly? That was clearly my delusion, wasn't it?

I'd thought the probability of me—the only daughter of a humble barony—being noticed at fairly large events attended by notable nobles from across the continent was about the same as the probability of falling backward and breaking my nose.

But anyone who's done proper fandom shouldn't judge me. Thoroughly memorizing your bias's schedule to attend and witness him in person up close is the most basic of basic fan virtues, isn't it?

And did I stalk him? Did I do something wrong? If you actually examine it, I never once went somewhere I wasn't allowed. Compared to the Ruvermontes, my family may be infinitely shabby, but I still only went to places where I could confidently show my face with my noble title.

However, at this moment, such excuses were unnecessary. The duke wasn't a modern person who could understand my devoted fan heart.

To him, I was probably nothing more and nothing less than an older, unhinged woman trailing after his 10-year-old son's every move.

Ah. This is rather sad.

"Furthermore, the reason you're here now."

Right, coming to the north was pushing it a bit, wasn't it?

"Wasn't your lie rather lacking in sincerity? You wanted to experience northern life? What was it, experiential learning... application? A lady with not a lick of strength, who looks like she'd blow away in a southern spring breeze, coming to this ducal territory notorious for all manner of magical beasts?"

But what did it matter? When I decided to come north, I never worried about threats to my personal safety.

As is typical of novel clichés, the bone-chilling cold northern region would be overflowing with monsters and lurking with unexpected dangers, but under the protection of the cold duke with black hair and red eyes, it would be safer than anywhere else. Amen.

Wait, this isn't the time for such useless thoughts.

But no matter how frantically I rack my brain, no escape route from this situation comes to mind. The moment the duke caught me fangirling, the poor baron's daughter's fate was sealed.

I was destined to die here. Duke Hades Ruvermonte, that "son-obsessed fool," wasn't a man of gentle enough temperament to let a woman who stalked his son off with a kind warning, so he wouldn't drag this out either.

Probably time until death in this life: D-minus 3 hours, 2 hours 59 minutes 59 seconds, 2 hours 59 minutes 58 seconds...

The life-and-death threats constantly hurled at his son Abel Ruvermonte, from family registration to succession as duke.

And Duke Hades Ruvermonte, the textbook capable father who didn't hesitate to shed blood when necessary and protected his son from even a hair's harm.

Knowing his love for his son all too well, I carefully offered myself a silent prayer.

Though I hadn't yet captured the magnificent sight of the grown male lead Abel, I'd at least managed to fangirl over his adorable childhood that wasn't shown in the novel, so it had been a fairly satisfying life.

A life of crying while secretly glimpsing my bias's beautiful form from afar, occasionally purchasing and offering items that seemed perfect for him, and diligently tracking his schedule.

Please write this on my tombstone.

That this was the beautiful life of 'fandom artisan' Aisha Esclife, who lived 27 years in the Republic of Korea and 3 years in the book's country of Crescenta, a total of 30 years!

"Following around persistently, bombarding with expensive gifts, and now coming all the way to the north alone not even valuing your life..."

"I'm sorry. I have nothing to say."

"Fine, I give up. I can't possibly ignore such devotion."

"...I am rather much, aren't I? Even by my own assessment, there's no devotion quite like this."

"There have been quite a few women who followed me around because they liked me, but I've never seen anyone as persistent as you. It's astonishing. So, marriage. As soon as possible."

"Haah..."

"..."

"Yes, I'll accept it."

"..."

"Wait, what?! What did you say?"

Bang!

Like a bird shot down flapping its wings, the moment I shuddered, the table I'd touched wobbled.

The sloshing tea finally overflowed.

...What in the world did he just say?

Heartbroken at having my death sentence confirmed, I'd been half-listening and needed to replay the duke's line.

As soon as possible... and before that, something strange about marriage?

Die, young lady.

Let's go, execution.

I must have misheard something like that, right?

However, the duke looked at my dazed face, chuckled pfft, and properly delivered the killing blow.

"I'll do it, marriage."